


The Moon Loves The Sun

by mvernet



Series: Sentinel Thursday Prompt Fics [3]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Episode Breaking Ground, Episode Related, M/M, Pre-Slash, Requited Unrequited Love, Secretive Blair, Trapped in old building, caring jim, hurt!Blair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:09:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: Originally written for Live Journal Sentinel Thursday. Prompt, daylight.Blair secretly searches for the library of the Illuminati.





	The Moon Loves The Sun

“You okay there, Chief?”

Blair looked up from his chicken and broccoli Alfredo and smiled at Jim’s concern. “Yeah, fine. You outdid yourself on this sauce man. It’s delicious.” He finally moved his fork and some of Jim’s home made noodle casserole actually made it to his mouth.

Jim wasn’t buying it. Since the murder of Anthropologist Elizabeth Watson, Blair had not been himself. Jim silently scanned his partner once again, wondering if the tumble he took into the hidden tunnels of the old Cascade waterfront had caused more damage than Blair was letting on. Or maybe his kidnappers had roughed him up… or maybe Watson’s death had hit him hard.

Jim sighed. Much as his detective’s soul loved a puzzle, where Blair was concerned figuring out what was going on in that brilliant brain was like pulling the teeth of an enigma wrapped in a mystery. 

“Okay. That’s all I can take. Tell me if why you are hurting, Blair. Do I need to take you to the ER or the CPD shrink.”

Blair looked up, honestly surprised at his partner’s outburst. “Oh, man. I’m sorry, Jim. I’ve just been really deep in my own thoughts. You’re getting really good at reading people with your senses you know? Maybe a few tests…”

“Sandburg!”

Blair raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, Jim. Chill. First of all, I admit my back and shoulders are a little tender but…”

Jim immediately stood and placed his hands on Blair’s shoulders offering a gentle massage. He could feel exactly where the bruises were even through Blair’s shirt.

“Oh, Jim. You got magic hands.”

Jim smiled behind Blair’s back. “Keep talking, Sandburg.”

Blair moved his neck slowly from side to side and moaned happily. 

“The Chancellor asked me to go through Lizzie Watson’s office. You know, pack up the personal stuff, return equipment and books to the proper departments and go through all her data and notebooks. They’d like to publish anything they can posthumously, so her work wouldn’t be in vain.”

Jim frowned as he tried to work on the sore muscles of Blair’s back. He could tell his Guide was emotionally involved in Watson’s legacy.

“That’s good of you, Chief. I know you’ll respect her privacy and honor her work.” 

Blair was a sucker for a Jim compliment and gave him a backwards smile. “Jim, she was really into the Illuminati in Colonial and Federal America. She had more than enough information for a book on the subject. I found twenty finished chapters on her computer. She wanted to prove that the secret society was actually the cause of the American Revolution. She was very close. She was hoping to find a secret library under that construction site, she had no interest in the treasure or the gold. If she had found it she would have given it to Rainier so she could continued her research.”

“Chief, a fire destroyed the waterfront. How could a library survive?”

“You saw the maze and those iron doors down there. It’s possible a library might have been hidden away underground far from the harmful effects of daylight, smoke and water.”

Jim stopped his massage. “Whoa, there, Indiana Jones. You are not thinking of digging around down there by yourself in the dark.”

Blair snorted and gave a shrug of his now pain free shoulders. “Of course not, Jim. I’d need a construction engineer and enough funding for a year just to start looking. I have way too much on my plate already. Right, Big Guy?”

Jim grunted, making a mental note to check Blair’s sneakers everyday from now on for waterfront dirt circa 1893.

~~~J&B~~~

Blair hadn’t exactly lied to Jim. He was spending his extra time organizing and following through on Elizabeth Watson’s findings. The only part he left out was that he wasn’t warm and safe in her daylight filled office, he was wet and cold in the dark, exploring the basements of old, marked for demolition, abandoned buildings adjacent to the construction site. Now that all the publicity had died down, the site was guarded only by Bob, a retired ex-cop. Blair had no trouble winding the gruff old guy around his little finger with occasional cop strength cups of coffee and tales of Jim Ellison: Super Cop Of The New Millennium. In return, Blair had hassle free access to the area.

Yesterday, Blair had found a dilapidated house nestled between two storefronts. It was red brick, built in Georgian style with ornate columns holding up the small porch roof. What caught Blair’s interest was the owl perched on a book, carved above the door, the Owl of Minerva, sign of the Illuminati. Tonight he finally had enough time set aside to explore the stone walled basement. 

A cheap plastic flashlight in hand, he had searched for a hidden door, never noticing that the solid dirt floor changed to wide wooden planks at the eastern corner. He stood unwittingly on the hidden trap door. He heard the chilling sound of splintering wood under his feet. He crashed through the floor and landed face down on unforgiving stone. He groaned as his head burst with pain and screamed as seconds later, a pile of wood and rubble pinned his legs. Agony ripped through his right leg as his ankle broke under the weight of century old building materials, heavy and built to last. 

Now he was in the dark, his flashlight, like himself, broken and buried in debris. Blair wished, as he gave in to the swirling blackness calling his name, that he wasn’t so extraordinarily good at keeping secrets.

~~~J&B~~~

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Blair cried through gritted teeth. He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious, lying in the ruins of the old reading room of the Illuminati. He tried to crawl away from the unceasing pressure on his lower body and away from the drying pool of blood under his mouth from the gash on his forehead. He could only manage to turn his head towards a gray patch of stubborn moonlight that illuminated a portion of the hidden library. Blair could make out stacks of books and a solid table. His body trembled with the pain of his broken ankle and his head was beating with the rhythmic sound of twenty tribal drums. “I got the message, guys,” he whispered without opening his eyes. “I’m screwed.”

The overwhelming dizziness in his head made him grasp at the cold stone floor as if he needed to hold on or he would fall up towards the ceiling.

“Wow, Jim! Lookie! I found the library of the Illuminati. I found it with my head, but you know us Anthropologists are used to suffering for science. You’re gonna kill me, aren't you, Big Guy? I know, I know, I deserve it. But please, find me first?”

Blair found an odd comfort in talking out loud to Jim. “Hey, man? I wonder how close I have to be before you can hear me. !00 yards? A mile? Two? Ten? I’m a special case, right? Maybe there is a spiritual hotline thing going on, huh?”

It was getting darker in the small space and the only sounds were of falling dirt and skittering bits of wood and rock.

“Jim. Jim come on man, start looking for me. I need you. So do your thing. Pace, look out the window at your domain. Figure out what I've been doing and where I've been doing it. Come search for your Guide, my Sentinel.”

Blair smiled at that. He almost closed his eyes to picture Jim searching for him, but knew he needed to stay awake if he could.

“My Sentinel. When did I start to think of you as mine? Probably the first time I saw you. No, it was when you came to my office. You were my future, my prize. Possessive bastard that I am. I knew you were trouble at first sight, trouble that shone like daylight in my dark dungeon of an office. Man, Jim, you were so intense. Like the sun and I so wanted to be your moon. Guess I am, huh?”

Blair was starting to shiver, but he kept on talking.

“What’s with the cold, man? I’m not in enough pain here, I gotta be freezing too? One of the things I love about you, Jim. You’re like a furnace. Sometimes I sit close just to feel that righteous heat. Sometimes I want to crawl right into your jacket and just take up residence there. Just fold me up, Jim and stick me in your pocket. I’d be happy.”

He held on a moment to that image, using it to warm his mind at least.

“Sometimes Jim, I wish you could love me. I wish I could claim that heat for myself and give you some my heat in return. Those thoughts are enough to get my blood boiling. You don’t have a clue that you are my heat source, do you, Jim? Not a clue that I love you.”

Blair felt himself drifting off. He felt so weak and so weary, he could no longer talk to Jim. He tried to hold on as the first light of dawn in over a hundred years reached down into the hidden room. Blair blinked as his eyes welcomed the return of day after a long night of pain. He knew he was fading fast. He thought he saw the sun, take the form of a man. Like Jim's healing massage that seemed ages ago, the sun man touched him gently spreading beams of light throughout his aching body till it spilled out in his smile.

“Jim doesn't have a clue that I love him, Sunman.” Blair confided as he gave himself up willingly and floated away on streams of daylight.

“I know now, Chief.” Jim reached down and kissed his unconscious partner on his faint smile, before calling for an ambulance and clearing the rubble away.


End file.
